Team Beta
by Finnegan0724
Summary: Team Beta. They were the second, or third, best superhero team around. When the going got tough, they...ran the other way. Not for long, mind you, but long enough for Granny, the enforcer, to redirect their fleeing behinds back to the fight. Frankly, Emma Swan had long come to the conclusion that Granny could stuff her crossbow where the sun surely did not shine. AU SwanQueen
1. Chapter 1

Team Beta.

They were the second, or third, best superhero team around. When the going got tough, they...ran the other way. Not for long, mind you, but long enough for Granny, the enforcer, to redirect their fleeing behinds back to the fight. With her crossbow, she threatened the men and women of Team Beta back to the battle at hand, reminding them, not for the first time, that they were the only thing standing between Storybrooke and the dark forces that threatened to destroy the town and its citizens.

Frankly, Emma Swan had long come to the conclusion that Granny could stuff her crossbow where the sun surely did not shine. Come hell or three a.m., the elderly woman did not quit; did not sit back to think that her little minions needed time to rest their powers or recapture their high scores on Ms. Pacman from some foul-mouthed little shi- ahem, shining example of Storybrooke's burgeoning future leaders.

The minions were sleepy, dammit. Emma slammed her head back into the plush pillows on her extraordinarily small twin bed, cursing the lack of proper housing for the only thing keeping Storybrooke from the destructive powers of Evil. The Bed and Breakfast, tucked behind Granny's diner, had been turned into headquarters sometime after the establishment of Team Beta- the arrival of Emma and her super powers spurring on the organization efforts Granny had been touting for years. But still, shouldn't bigger beds be a top priority? Right after the rocket launcher she had asked Santa for at Christmas, Emma amended.

If Evil had shiny sports cars and all sorts of cool gadgets, why couldn't she have a rocket launcher? Or six more hours of sleep?

"Go away," she mumbled into the pillow, willing the person on the other side of her knocking incessantly to disappear. Honestly, she wished her powers included more than being able to detect when someone was lying and random bursts of energy. She wanted the power to make annoying people poof into thin air and annoy other people in other rooms that weren't her own.

"Rise and shine, sleepyhead!"

Emma grunted and let her body slide from the warm sheets with a distinct thump when her feet made contact with the floor. With a grumble, she shuffled across the floor and unlocked the door, revealing an altogether too perky Mary Margaret Blanchard, the archer of their little ragtag group. Sometimes, secretly, Emma wished the dark brunette would shoot herself in the foot, breaking that unerring aim, just to shake things up. It wasn't that she wished harm on the perky brunette (read: yes, she did. Just enough to shut her up for ten minutes), but she needed something to break the monotony of saving the town, not saving the town; rinse and repeat until the end of time. "I hate you," the blonde informed her former roommate with a scowl.

The archer had the decency to look mildly affronted by the declaration, but it didn't last long enough for Emma to fully appreciate the gesture. "Duty calls, Emma. By the powers of Good, we must heed the call."

Fuck. She was like a damn robot, reciting the party line with such conviction it was nauseating. For one brief moment, Emma was glad she hadn't been raised to enact the powers of Good; at one point in her life, she had been nothing more than a foster kid with a penchant for getting into trouble due to her abilities. Then, the irritating little Boy Wonder had tracked her down, all the while claiming she had to defeat his mother, the Evil Queen, and pull Storybrooke from its stasis under the ruling thumb of those evil enough to ascend to power.

It didn't help that she had given birth to Boy Wonder some ten years ago- really, he was a cute kid- and given him up for adoption to get him out of the superhero life. But no, that would have been too simple a solution. Instead, he had to be adopted by one of the most evil super villains Emma had ever encountered. And hot. Really freaking hot. Like, depths of hell, yes, Mistress, I'll have another, kind of hot. All that leather and silk and- wait! was Mary Margaret still talking?

"..and so Rumplestiltskin threatened to burn down the town unless Belle is returned to him by nightfall," Mary Margaret concluded, shoulders straighter than any Army recruit at inspection, as she stared ahead to await approval that the blonde would join the scout team to determine the imp's terms.

"So, you woke me up at three in the morning to tell me we have to neutralize the gimpy imp by, let's say, ten tonight?" The blonde didn't bother to wait for a response, not when she already knew the answer. When there was an actual threat, not one made on a consistent basis (at least three times a week), then she would rally the troops and find her underwear, but until then- "I'm going back to bed. Wake me up when Granny's switches to the lunch menu."

"But-"

"Lunch menu. I want a double cheeseburger with chili cheese fries." Emma waited a beat, considering her options with as much concentration as she had devoted to the SAT's (ok, more concentration that had been designated to that particular misadventure in doodling). "And a chocolate milkshake, extra chocolate. Three quarters chocolate with a little bit of shake to make things interesting."

Mary Margaret stomped her foot, looking the part of a pouting toddler in her fuzzy pink sweater and blue jeans instead of a kick ass archer on the second, or third, best superhero team around (well, they weren't exactly housing Superman or Batman in the back rooms; more like Robin and the Butler, whatever his name was). "But what about Rumplestiltskin?"

"He's a little man with a limp and a cane. I think we can probably wait until after lunch to knock his lights out," Emma offered with a small, albeit forced, grin. The bed behind had begun to sing-song her name, 'Emma. Emma, come back to me. You know you want to come back to me and imagine the Evil Queen was here with you.' Doing awful things, the blonde amended with a harsh head shake. Awful, nasty things, like kissing along her jaw, moaning her name, running her long, slender fingers through Emma's blonde tresses, using that wicked tongue for something other than spewing curses- awful things, Emma reaffirmed.

The fuzzy and pink archer really needed to find someone else to bother.

"Do you even care that he threatened to burn down the town?"

Not really.

"At three in the morning? No, but, then again, I don't care about many things at _three in the fucking morning,_ Mary Margaret. Granny had us running drills until midnight, which means I've had less than three hours of sleep. That's not enough to deal with the golden imp."

"What if he has Regina with him? Then will you care about the destruction they could wreak on the town?"

Regina? Emma visibly perked, shoulders straight and head cocked to the side as she considered the need for sleep versus the desire to see what kind of outfit the Evil Queen would don on behalf of her former mentor's plight to reacquaint himself with his beloved librarian. Was leather inappropriate before nine a.m? Or, maybe it would be one of those business suits that made the Mistress of Evil look more like a relatively harmless town mayor than anything else. No one would be the wiser to the fact that the brunette could, and would, shoot fireballs from her hands whenever the mood struck. "I probably should...go along. For Henry. He wouldn't like it if Regina was being evil and whatnot."

Sure, she should go check out the kid's other mother. Maybe not check out, but...determine what evil Regina might up to if she really was back in cahoots with Rumple, Emma amended silently. The last the blonde had heard regarding the status of Team Evil was that there had been a breakdown in leadership- something about the Queen of Hearts, the Evil Queen's mother, being involved with the golden-hued deal-maker in years gone by, which had incited an epic fight between mother, daughter, and imp. The latter of which had, apparently, decided to dedicate his newfound time to bringing Belle around to the dark side until order could be restored amongst the trio.

Or perhaps it was he who was trying to go the light side. Either way, Emma decided she should probably find a thong, a pair of worn jeans, and a shirt before confronting the super villains about their dastardly plans. It wouldn't do anyone any good if their sacred white knight was too transfixed about her commando status that she let Evil take over some key tactical position in town.

Mary Margaret nodded in response, pleased that her powers of reasoning had finally influenced her former roommate into doing the right thing, for the right reasons. With a broad smile, she patted the blonde on the hand and murmured a quick, "We'll be waiting in the diner," before she turned to wake up the rest of the superhero's dwelling at the Bed and Breakfast.

With a grunt, Emma shut the door to her room, ignoring the enigmatic pull of her bed in favor of finding her clothes from the night before. With any luck they would be a viable option to wear on the scouting expedition. Otherwise, well- there was a pair of wrinkled sweats somewhere in the room, probably buried under the mounds of laundry she had been meaning to take care of. As she searched the room, she felt...off, like something or someone was watching her.

It was an eery feeling, and not one she was keen to repeat after the little itty bitty stalking incident with the Mad Hatter that had only ended when he had flung himself out the window of his home like a big, crazy ass bouncing bunny. "i can feel you watching me," Emma called out, eyes searching the dark crevices of the room. "I swear on a stack of pancakes, if you don't come out now, I will shove this..." she searched the room and came up short of anything besides her beloved t.v. remote, "remote down your throat!"

A rumble and a crash later, the Kid stood before her, looking sheepish at having been caught. "Hi, Mom," he said with a shy wave.

"What are you doing here, Kid?"

Henry shrugged his small shoulders and scrunched up his face into a frown. "I came to warn you that I saw my mom going to her lair this morning. I think she's up to something."

"She went to her lair?" There was a part of her that wanted to send the kid on his way without further explanation other than, "You're ten, go home," but she probably owed it to the rest of Team Beta to find out the inside scoop on Regina's lair.

"Yeah. It's under the mausoleum," Henry confirmed.

Huh. And here Emma had been operating under the belief that Regina had merely been planning her days from the comforts of her mansion on Mifflin Street. Apparently it just wasn't big enough to handle whatever plans of world domination the woman had, so she had to build a lair under the cemetery (and wasn't that creepy?) "Have you ever been down there, Henry?"

The boy nodded eagerly, eyes widened and grin broad. "One time. She didn't know I followed her down there, but I saw this really cool car. It's like her Mercedes, but newer, and it shoots fireballs from the headlights and has spikes on the bumpers."

That would be one killer round of bumper cars, Emma thought as she cringed at the boy's continued description of all the neat things Regina had built into the vehicle. Thinking back to her own mode of transportation, an older model VW Bug whose only line of defense was a layer of rust and a fussy radio, she couldn't help but feel sorry for the poor thing should she ever be in the position to battle with the Evil Queen on the road. "That's great, kid, but you really need to go home now before she realizes you've gone missing, again."

The again part actually worried her. Ever since the Boy Wonder had dragged her from her comfy apartment in Boston where she'd been working as an independent bounty hunter to bring lower level villains to justice, he had developed a habit of running away from home. Which only led to lectures directed at poor Emma about her negative influence on the boy.

"But she's evil, Emma," Henry explained in that exaggerated whine only spoiled children could produce when it was time for them to get their way again. "And I brought dynamite."

"Dynamite? Where the hell...heck did you find dynamite?" Then, she silently added, please don't tell me it's from your mom's lair, because there was no known dimension in which that conversation would be fun.

"From the mine," the boy replied in a matter-of-fact tone.

Of course, from the mines. Where else would a ten year old boy come across unprotected dynamite? (Besides his mother's lair, of course, or Granny's not-so-super-secret stash in the back room of the diner). Again, if Evil had shiny sports cars and all sorts of cool gadgets, why couldn't she have a rocket launcher? Especially if her son got to run around with dynamite and a lighter stuffed into his backpack.

"Go find Ruby and ask her to take you home," Emma ordered in a tone that belied her worry. "And leave the dynamite with me, and whatever else you have shoved into that bag. You know what, just give me the bag and then go find Ruby." With deft fingers, she slipped the bag from Henry's shoulders. "She can get you through the security at your mom's place without setting off the dogs, and the trip wires, and the-"

Henry leveled her with a piercing stare. "Mom got rid of the dogs when they peed on her rose bushes," he said succinctly. "And the trip wires were pulled after Grandma set them off last Fourth of July when the fireworks were pulled 'cause Archie said the town might go up in flames. They went sky-high and almost lit Mom's apple tree on fire."

"That's great, but I'm still not letting you walk out of here with a bundle of dynamite like Wile. E. Coyote."

"Who?"

Emma silently amended her earlier assessment of the Evil Queen; the woman was gorgeous and all sorts of kick ass, but she was definitely evil. What kind of mother deprived their child of cartoons? "Go get Ruby and have her take you home," she reiterated, slowly this time. "I'll go check out your mom's lair and make sure she isn't doing anything evil." Which would happen some time after she checked out Rumplestilskin's ploy for Belle.

"I could go with you."

"Or, you could go find Ruby like I told you and go home! You can't walk around town playing with dynamite, Henry, no matter the reason- which, by the way, why are you walking around town with dynamite?"

The small boy shrugged his thin shoulders, glancing up at his mother from under floppy brown locks of hair. "I wanted to help you, you know, get rid of evil. I was going to blow up the well in the woods."

If only it were that easy. But, at three-thirty in the morning, Emma was darn well willing to hear the kid out before she took the dynamite out and blew it herself, probably not in the well, though. That wasn't likely to destroy the Evil in Storybrooke. She kneeled down until she was at eye level with her son and peered into his curious eyes. "That's a really...sweet gesture, Henry, but you can't get rid of Evil by blowing up the well. All you'd end up doing is blowing up yourself, and that would land me in even hotter water with your mom than I already am. Also, you'd blow yourself up, so, again, go find Ruby and have her take you home."

"You'll go to mom's lair, won't you, Emma? I don't want her to be evil anymore."

God, the kid should be an actor for all the tears that blossomed in the corners of his puppy dog eyes. Still, she nodded in response, made promises that she would do as he asked, provided he left soon and she had the opportunity to find clothes that weren't covered in what could be ketchup and beer stains, and shoved him out the door to find Granny's granddaughter.

When she rose to her feet, she discovered two things. The first being that she had managed an entire conversation with Mary Margaret and Henry without either of them mentioning the potato chip clinging valiantly to the edge of her t-shirt, and the second that her clothes from the previous day, including an errant pair of lacy panties, were strewn about the middle of her small room. Disregarding the mess, Emma dressed quickly and snagged her keys off the dresser.

As she bounced down the stairs to the main room, then through the doors that would eventually lead to Granny's diner, she felt a sense of accomplishment. Rather, one part accomplishment and three parts hungry, but nonetheless, she made her way to Granny's to determine the situation with the golden pain in her ass and then to check out what kind of goodies Regina had stashed away.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thank you to everyone who read, reviewed, etc. Hopefully this chapter doesn't disappoint. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Once Upon a Time, any of its affiliates, or DC or Marvel comics. **

There was something rather self-satisfying in playing with your latest, greatest toy in the privacy of your personal space- where no one could touch you, Regina thought as she splayed her fingers over the power mechanism on her new laser. It was powerful to be sure, but also highly impractical for a town such as Storybrooke. If she had designs on New York City, perhaps a laser would be more suited to her plans, but as it was, the laser was merely for her own personal pleasure. There was very little that would stop her from admiring the thing of beauty mounted on the work table, except-

"What are you doing, darling?"

Regina nearly jumped out of her skin at the intrusion. Lairs were supposed to be sacred spaces, weren't they? Certainly not when curious mothers, such as Cora, were involved, it seemed. "Didn't I ask you to stay at the house with Henry, Mother?"

Cora nodded (well, Regina had asked, and she had watched Henry...right up until the point when he told he was going to find dynamite and blow up the well, then she got bored), though her interest was still piqued solely by the sleek machine half-hidden behind her daughter. She pointed at the monstrosity taking up a third of the plain wooden work desk shoved against the wall. "What is that?"

"It's a laser," the younger brunette answered flatly as she moved away from her precious new toy. Testing out its strengths and weaknesses would have to come later, lest she be tempted to use it on a moving target (and wouldn't that be a shame?).

"Is that how you plan on taking out Swan? With a laser to burn her to a crisp?" Cora very nearly clapped with excitement at the possibilities of doing just that to the lithe blonde who managed to thwart her last devious plan to take over Storybrooke. "I can't say I'm not fond of the old methods, but surely you've already exhausted all other options if you've resorted to this newfangled technology, yes?"

"It isn't newfangled technology, Mother, and I have no intentions of using it to eliminate Miss Swan." Regina rounded the corner and braced her hands on her mother's shoulders, subtly directing the older woman back to the stairs that would lead her out of the mausoleum. Better to have her far away from technology than nearby to blow them both to smithereens because of her curiosity.

The Queen of Hearts resisted at the bottom of the stairs, turning pleading eyes back on her daughter. She gazed longingly at the expensive piece of weapon with a sort of lust in her eyes that made Regina only want to rush her out of the room faster. "Would you show me how it works, sweetheart?"

"No," came the succinct reply.

"Regina, dear, how do you expect me to be prepared if you won't show me-"

"You don't need to be anywhere near the laser, Mother," the dark brunette reiterated slowly, as if speaking to a young child instead of the woman who had raised her. "Do you remember what you did to my answering machine?"

For a brief moment, Cora looked affronted but the expression dropped as quickly as it had come. She shrugged from her daughter's grip and faced her, casually observing the other toys- the cars, the guns, the knives- all of which she wasn't allowed to play with, and it was all because of a tiny mistake concerning a now-mangled answering machine that had been requisitioned to the junkyard after her mishap. "It was saying the most terrible things about me, Regina. Surely you don't believe I should have let it continue, do you?"

Her therapist had once told her to take deep breaths and envision herself on a beach somewhere, to relax in the feeling of serenity; unfortunately for the cricket (always chirping away about this or that), his methods didn't work effectively then, and they sure as hell didn't work when dealing with her mother. "You decided to destroy my answering machine because of recorded messages from a drunken idiot down at the Rabbit Hole, so what makes you think I would let you touch an actual weapon?"

"It was saying the most horrendous things about me," Cora argued. "And you. What kind of mother would I be if I didn't take a stand for you against the drunken fools you choose to co-exist with?"

That funny, fuzzy sensation that often came when it was time to refute Cora's oddly held beliefs that she was the epitome of a good mother lingered on the tip of Regina's tongue, baiting her with the irrefutable proof scarred into the skin of her back for an hour of tea time missed, but she held firm. "Of course, Mother. I'm sure hearing Leroy call you a whore to the Dark One would sting a bit."

"I was never his whore," Cora bit into the silence that swirled between them, whispering harshly as she dragged her daughter's body closer to hers. "I would never have been his whore; I loved him."

The dark brunette batted away the long talons gripping the sleeves of her black blazer as she straightened to her full height (plus stilettos). "Then why aren't you down at Town Hall with him negotiating for the release of his precious Belle from captivity? And, second question, why did you marry Daddy if you were so in love with Rumple?"

"Because you won't let me take any of your precious cars down and none of the taxi's will come out this far from town," Cora explained bitterly. There had been a squirrel in the road when she had chased it off with Regina's older model Mercedes...straight into a tree, but that didn't mean she shouldn't have another chance at driving, did it? "And, to answer your second question, it was the giggle. Sometimes Rumpey used to giggle while we were in bed together and it-"

"Stop right there!" Whatever happened to 'Love is weakness, Regina.' There were times (and this was one of them) when Regina wished for the ability to make her mother disappear into thin air (poof! gone.) or that she had been more discerning in her selection of assassin when she had planned for her mother's demise years prior. Trusting Captain Hook to eliminate a sixty-year old woman was, apparently, beyond his skill level. Perhaps, upon further reflection, she should have asked him to prove himself on a bunny rabbit first. But, really, she didn't need to know that Rumplestiltskin used that creepy, high-pitched laugh when he was-

For the sake of her mental health, she wasn't going to finish that thought, Regina decided. "Mother, do you want to go down to Town Hall to listen to the negotiations?"

Cora eyed her warily before she asked, "Will you let me drive?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Squirrel."

"It was one time," the Queen of Hearts argued with surprising conviction. With her hands bound to her hips and scowl firmly in place, she might have looked intimidating to someone who was not her daughter. As it was, the cost to repair the vehicle outweighed any intimidation methods Cora might try to enact. "And the squirrel had it coming to him."

It was going to take a very long time to process that last bit of information, possibly enough time to consume several very expensive bottles of wine while soaking in the tub thinking about how to eliminate Emma Swan's pants...no, that wasn't quite right. Again,...several very expensive bottles of wine while soaking in the tub thinking about how to eliminate Emma Swan- much better. Now- "Did you want to go or not, Mother?"

Several long beats later, a reluctant, "Fine," broke through Cora's lips as she shuffled towards the new vehicle, trailing her fingers along the sleek metal that comprised her daughter's equivalency of the Bat mobile. All things considered, at least her daughter had the decency not to dress up like a disgusting creatures who hung upside down and dove at moving vehicles to catch bugs. That would have been far too much disappointment- not that she was not disappointed in her daughter's lack of ambition to rule the world- for her to handle. "Why don't you have one of those suits to make you fly? I heard there's a man in...oh, I don't remember, but he uses one."

"Because I prefer to keep both of my feet firmly on the ground, Mother," Regina returned once she had settled herself in the driver's seat of her shiny, new car. The extra cost was worth it to bribe Michael, the mechanic, into adding in the extras she desired, even at the additional expense of listening to him complain that the weight of those toys would pull from the considerable horsepower. It would all be worth it once she sent Mary Margaret "Snow White" Blanchard-Nolan rocketing through the air, perhaps even with her pesky Prince Charming by her side- hopefully they could "find each other" when they were a couple hundred feet above the air. "How much of a distraction are you going to be at these proceedings?"

Cora huffed indignantly. True, her time with the lovable imp had been limited since she had threatened to roast him over the fire pit in Regina's backyard until he squealed his love for her and her alone, but she had changed since last Monday night. She was a new person (with new clothes and a new plan that involved taking out the little hussy who dared mess with her scaly imp), but her daughter didn't need to know that. Instead, she wiggled her fingers in the direction of the underground garage door that would lead them out of the cemetery and indicated that Regina put that pedal to the metal.

As she drove through town, bright lights cutting a swath through the darkened recesses of treacherous alleyways, Regina considered, not for the first time, dropping her mother, Rumplestiltskin,and Belle into a padded room and letting them battle it out themselves. It would certainly give her the edge when it came to battling for Henry's affections if she weren't constantly finding herself in the middle of some scuffle that didn't involve Emma Swan. Perhaps there, too, she could find a way to show her son that evil was in the eye of the beholder.

If only the blonde didn't annoy her so much.

Really, it was Emma's fault that they had reduced their tenuous acquaintanceship into a muddled mess of Good versus Evil. If Emma hadn't gone and joined Team Beta, she and the Evil Queen would likely be in Regina's backyard soaking in the hot tub while drinking champagne and toasting to taking over the town. Regina caught the tickle in her throat before it burst forth and crammed back to where it belonged. She might have even been convinced to let Emma take the first turn with her laser, if only the irritating blonde hadn't up and joined the relentlessly _good_ ranks of Team Beta.

"You missed the turn."

Regina's foot slammed on the brake as her head swiveled to meet the unimpressed expression on her mother's face. "What?"

"You missed the turn," Cora repeated. "To Town Hall, dearest, you needed to turn left at the light you blew through. You're lucky the sheriff isn't on duty, else you might have had to string him up by his bootstraps for giving you a ticket."

"That's the reason you aren't allowed to get your driver's license, mother," Regina retorted as she swung the sleek machine around at the next light, executing a perfect (if she did say so herself) illegal u-turn. "You can't torture the sheriff for giving you a ticket for an offense you committed. Also, clearing the streets of vermin is not reason enough to murder my Mercedes."

"But you should have seen Mary Margaret's face when I did," the Queen of Hearts cackled in an unrestrained fashion. It had done her heart good, up until the sleek black car had been forced to stop on account of the presence of that misplaced tree, to see Snow White's big, wet crocodile tears as she flung herself in front of the poor little critter (who was fine, by the way). At least he didn't have to wait for a taxi or beg his daughter for a ride into town whenever Rumple refused to give her a lift in his Cadillac (sans neat laser beams and spikes).

"As pleasant as that always is-"

"Turn here!" Cora demanded as she pointed the way to the backside of Town Hall (because Evil had to make an entrance and the front door wasn't going to cut it).

Regina turned more from muscle memory than by the command. That padded white room was becoming more and more viable as an option, especially if it mellowed her mother back into the sadistic control-freak of yesteryear than the out-of-control, demanding, golden imp-lover she was today. The parking lot was clear, giving her the choice of spots in which to leave her precious vehicle while she went inside to test the theory that one cannot simply die from boredom.

She made to unlock the passenger door when she discovered her mother had already scooted from the car. Even as she followed, albeit reluctantly, Regina could feel the weight of two nights without sleep dragging her down. Sometimes, Evil really did need to take the night off, but her mother was a pusher and had her doing research throughout the nights to determine Team Beta's weak points (For future reference: Prince Charming, the Blue Fairy, and Pinocchio- the kid was made of wood, after all, and she could shoot fireballs. Hello, kindling.)

When she reached the doors, she was almost pleasantly surprised to find Emma Swan holding the door open for her, two coffees held in her hands, as she leaned against the heavy door. "Almost thought you weren't coming, but then I saw Cora and, well, we all know what happened to your car. Sorry about that, by the way."

Almost pleasantly surprised moved into cautiously optimistic that the blonde's intent in the early morning hours was not to get into another fist fight, but that waned when one of the coffee cups was thrust into her hand.

"I, um, you like your coffee black, right?"

Regina eyed the younger woman with a critical eye, awaiting the other shoe (or anvil) to drop. When nothing came after a few moments, she handed the travel cup to her mother and encouraged her to take a sip (two birds, one stone).

After a long sip, Cora clutched at her throat, making an irrefutably horrendous gagging sound as she trailed her feet about the room, hot liquid slamming dangerously against the sides of the cup as she did so. "You're trying to kill me," she accused, pointing a finger at her daughter, who merely redirected the blame onto none other than Emma Swan. "You're trying to kill me with...is that hazelnut?"

Nimbly, Regina plucked the travel mug from Cora's fingers and downed a long sip of her own, confident now that the blonde was not, in fact, trying to poison her. "I'll assume you brought this from Granny's?"

Emma nodded, a bit concerned that Regina would willingly hand over a potentially poisonous cup of coffee to her own mother without so much as batting an eyelash. "You looked tired the last time I saw you, and you said you hadn't been sleeping well. I thought the coffee would help keep you awake through this thing."

"The hazelnut gives it a bit of a kick, don't you think, dear?"

"Y-you were going to?" Emma waved between Regina and Cora, who had long since recovered from her faux-poisoning death and had sidled up to Rumple's side. "She's your mother."

"Oh, please, don't act so scandalized. If I wanted to off her, I would have done so earlier," Regina retorted as she sipped the savory brew. The blonde was quite the thinker, ducking cleanly onto her good side with the offering of gourmet coffee instead of the dull brew Granny's was famous for. "That was merely payback for keeping me awake the past two nights for research purposes."

Grumpy as she was at having been forced to this shindig by the ever-perky Mary Margaret, Emma would give the other woman props for ensuring the Evil Queen would be in attendance. She scooted to the side and allowed Regina to choose their seats, flopping into one beside her as soon as the dark brunette had chosen. Front row, lovely. That meant she couldn't take a nap and dream about superpowers that allowed her nemesis' to appear naked in her bedroom (only one, though)."So, research purposes?"

"Weak links in Team Beta."

"Oh." A long beat. "Was I one of them?"

Regina shook her head, thoroughly enjoying the coffee and, surprisingly, the company. It was far better than dealing with her mother or, god forbid, Dr. Whale and his x-ray vision. There were only so many times she could have a conversation with the man before she grew uncomfortable knowing that while he used his powers for evil, he also used them on evil to bypass the standard clothing conventions like the horny monster-builder he was. "Surprisingly no, but I was terribly concerned to find that you still sleep with a teddy bear."

"I do not!"

"Ladies and Gentlemen, if we might get started," Rumplestiltskin drawled silkily, eyeing the bickering Evil Queen and her blonde sidekick as he addressed the room. "I've informed you of my terms, and I should like to see a decision made by the end of the night, tonight- you have until midnight. Otherwise, I and the rest of my evil companions will unleash-"

"I'm out," Regina spoke up, one finger raised to catch his attention. "I'd prefer not to take part in whatever hell you plan on unleashing."

"Fine, fine, fine," Rumplestiltskin amended in that high-pitched tone of his that never failed to give Emma a case of the shivers. "My evil companions, with the notable exception of Regina, will unleash- well, now you've gone and ruined it, dearie. How am I supposed to make a decent threat if you go and beat me to the punchline?"

"Uh, guys, if Regina's out, then I'm out. No offense, but it's just not worth if Regina's not there." Emma shrugged her shoulders and slouched into her seat. Problem solved, no more getting woken up at three in the morning for some lover's spat that did not include her as one of the offended parties.

"Emma!" came Mary Margaret's predictable squeal.

The blonde shrugged again in response. "We all know what's going to happen if I get in the middle of this. Cora's going to poof me away from the fight and into the woods the second I throw one punch. I have shit to do, unlike the rest of you, like hang out with my kid in the park." (Or hide my teddy bear before Regina can find its hiding place under the bed). "Unlike the rest of you, I don't really care who's doing the Dark One."

"Emma!" Neal, said Dark One's spawn, exclaimed from three rows back. "This is the fight of good against evil!"

"Oh, it is? Sorry. I thought it was the fight of who gets to screw your dad next, which, by the way, is disgusting. Belle left him because he went all psycho crazy on her; Cora wants him because he went all psycho crazy again, and I don't really get why you care because you'd be the first casualty. "You don't even have any superpowers!"

Regina nudged her none-so-politely in the ribs. "Actually, that isn't true, dear. He does have the superpower of showing up when and where he isn't wanted. That alone should qualify him for status as Team Beta's resident pain in the ass."

It was probably impolite to snort into the palm of her hand at the expense of her ex, Henry's father, but Regina had a point. For all his bluster, Neal was next to useless in a fight, except that one time when Cora had humored his failed attempts to stab her with his sword before she turned him into a unfortunate-looking toad for the better part of a week (it had taken three shots of tequila and the continued promises to pay for Ruby's medical treatment should she catch anything slimy before the werewolf agreed to catch the toad and bring him back to Cora so she could undo what she did)- that had been amusing.

"Give me back my Belle!" Rumple hollered, the sound echoing through the large conference room as he pounded his cane on the floor to emphasize his middle-aged gimpy imp temper tantrum.

"Yeah, no. See, she's a person and-" Emma trailed off, unsure of how to inform the limp-haired man that she was not in the business of handing over people when certain golden-hued other people threw tantrums like she had stolen their favorite toy during recess.

"Have you not thought to woo the girl back to you, Rumple?" Regina offered, much to the chagrin of her mother.

At the head of the table, the Dark One appeared contemplative for the briefest hint of a second before his features twisted into a scowl. "No. Give her back to me or I will burn this town to the ground."

"As productive as this is," Regina drawled, "might you like to join me for breakfast at Granny's, Emma? I'm sure Henry would want to see you this morning, if he hasn't already snuck out and back into the house with the help of a certain werewolf."

The blonde stood without further explanation needed and directed her gaze to Granny, informally acknowledging that she didn't care to listen to the rest of the proceedings when she could be watching the Evil Queen do unspeakable things to a spoon. "I sort of already saw him this morning, but yeah I'm good for breakfast. Did you know he stole dynamite from the mines and thought he could blow up the well in the woods to get rid of evil?"

Regina nodded as they walked out of the conference room. "I'm well aware. I placed a GPS tracker in his sneakers last week after he threatened to run away to New York with his 'real' mother and father."


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I own nothing associated with OUaT, its affiliates, or the Thrilling Adventure Hour. **

There was a part of her that had long held the suspicion that breakfast with Regina would be a traumatic event (requiring hours upon hours of therapy with the local therapist, a bespectacled man by the unfortunate name of Dr. Archibald Hopper), but the hour in which she had spent in the company of the Evil Queen over scrambled eggs, toast, and coffee had been nothing short of pleasant.

With the minor exception of some werewolf-Evil Queen bickering and thinly-veiled insults, the morning had been a shining example of one of the few times Emma Swan had managed to enjoy the morning (before 11:59 a.m.) with her clothes on (all of them, and not her boxers and sports bra). Her companion was polite, refined, and had already offered to foot the bill for the breakfast dishes and the cherry pie Emma had very nearly decimated when Ruby dropped the slip of paper between them.

The last of which was a particular draw.

The only thing that could have made the morning better would have been the sudden disappearance of the other occupants in the diner, the irritating superheroes who wanted nothing more than to battle each other in the middle of the park over the slightest treasonous offenses. In fact, the only thing that would top that scenario would be the emergence of a black hole in the middle of the diner which took all but the Evil Queen, Emma Swan, and Henry Mills, and, perhaps, Ruby (they would need a cook, after all, and a babysitter in life post-black hole).

Why couldn't they have stayed at Town Hall and argued there? It was roomy, had decent acoustics, and most importantly, it was not the diner where Emma had willingly followed the Evil Queen for breakfast.

"Is there any way you can make them go away?" Emma asked impolitely, not bothering to lower her voice from an octave that only dogs, and annoying, hell-bent-on-revenge superheroes would hear. It would figure that her love life (future) would be thwarted by the presence of her son and half a dozen screaming individuals with the combined powers to knock the world around for a couple of hours without strain.

Regina cocked her head to the side and frowned over her companion's left shoulder. Her mother was certainly making the most awful racket as she followed Rumplestiltskin around, bobbing to and fro as the imp limped after Granny to demand the "freedom of his beloved." Beloved, her precious laser beam, Regina thought. The pretty little maid had been nothing more to him than a convenient plaything until his mansion had gone into disrepair, incurring the wrath of the homeowner's association (which may or may not have been influenced by her own petitions for cleaner, well-manicured lawns and home inspections). "Unfortunately, whatever that way might be, it exists outside of my powers. Perhaps if you- no, of course not, dear- there is no way to relieve ourselves of their continued presence, unless-"

"Unless?" High-pitched giggle alert; there really should be one of those posted in town, perhaps with a siren attached to alert the citizens of Storybrooke of that high-pitched giggle of Rumple's that signaled impending doom, destruction, and incorrectly diagnosed tinnitus.

"I'm fairly sure my plan violates at least three of your precious Team Beta rules, dear."

She shouldn't ask; really, she should have tucked her head to her chest and silently drank her coffee in peace, but, then again, Emma Swan had never been one to turn down a couple extra hours of sleep in the morning and a world free from the childish bicker occurring behind her thanks to Rumple, Cora, Granny, and Mary Margaret. And, was that a fireball blooming in the Queen of Hearts' palm? "Which three rules?"

Regina smirked in that way that never failed to inform Emma of impending doom...and bruises. The last time the blonde had seen that particular eyebrow quirk was the day she was thrown through the air, only to land coccyx-first on the asphalt of Mifflin Street after a nasty argument gone wrong over Henry's latest whereabouts and the fact that Emma had temporarily lost the boy (in her defense, he was small and very fast). "Thirteen, seventeen, and thirty-four."

The time was probably nigh to inform the brunette that Emma had never quite managed to finish reading the rule book before she signed on the dotted line. Mostly, it had been her salary (minimal), duties (too many), and vacation time (yeah, like that was going to happen anytime soon), not what she was prohibited from doing. "Right. Rules Thirteen, Seventeen, and Thirty-four, of course."

"I should have known you would be the type to ignore the rule book in favor of doing whatever struck your fancy."

The words were probably intended to be a slight, Emma concluded, but who was she to deny the truth? "Hey! I paid attention to the important ones. No killing unless it's in self-defense, no stealing unless it's absolutely necessary to apprehend a suspect, no using the company credit card to purchase gourmet coffee or rocket launchers-"

Regina's eyed widened with curiosity. "Are you telling met that you don't have a rocket launcher? I would have thought Granny would recognize the benefit of long-range weaponry, especially in light of your most recent loss."

Sneezy, the not-so-bright dwarf, had tried to fire a stolen crossbow (from Mary Margaret's secret cubbyhole in the lounge room), sneezed (as always), and ended up shooting himself in the foot after improperly fitting the arrow (read: followed archery instructions from _Tom and Jerry_). Then, the doofus had hidden the injury, which led to an infection in the bloodstream, and then he was moved to Storybrooke's intensive care unit for further treatment by the town's only doctor, Whale.

"That was a training issue," the blonde mumbled in response. Or lack of training, whatever. It wasn't like she hadn't argued for better equipment, but what she wanted was expensive and obviously required more training than picking up the darn thing and shooting (which took more money).

"I never said that the loss was not warranted, dear," Regina offered with a slight shrug of her designer-clad shoulders. One dwarf down, six more to go. If only the rest of Team Beta would take themselves out of the fight so easily, she might actually get to enjoy a full night's rest. Perhaps in their quest to "find each other," Snow and her Prince might accidentally knock themselves out during a cliched run towards each other in a field of wildflowers and roses."Honestly, I don't know how you've managed to prove yourself a challenge with the lack of proper equipment."

"It's the-" Yeah, she was going to do it; quote the party line she found to be a needlessly boring and tedious reminder. Appropriate or not, it was catchy.

"The Powers of Good, Rumple!"

"By midnight, else I burn down the town!"

Emma shrugged and pointed a lone finger in the direction of where Mary Margaret had issued her rallying cry of general annoyance. "What she said. Anyway, what's your plan for making all of that-" she waved her hands to indicate the rising noise level in the diner, "disappear?" Idly, she wondered if Cora even knew that Marco's eyes had not left the seat of her borrowed pantsuit in her pursuit of the Dark One.

"It's quite simple- we declare Rumplestiltskin's request a private issue to be settled by local law enforcement. I'm sure the Sheriff will have no problems deciding which offenses should be investigated, and which little imps should be sent on their way home to despair over their losses."

Reasonable plan, except for one minor detail- the rest of Team Beta would never go for it. Unlike Emma, they enjoyed taking sides and battling for the side of Good. Again, unlike Emma, they, with the exception of Ruby, enjoyed the midnight drills when the rest of the town was sleeping. And, definitely unlike Emma, they had been born into their inherent Goodness, so it was a matter of pride to defeat the powers of Evil from the smallest wayward Lost Boy to the Dark One himself. "You're willing to let your mother hang out there in the wind while you take the backseat and watch?"

Of course, this was the woman who had willingly handed over a cup of coffee that might have been doused with arsenic to the older woman, so, where did those loyalties lie?

"I'm willing to sell front row seats from my balcony to whatever trouble she gets into with Rumplestiltskin if it means I can sleep for more than twenty minutes without being awakened for another one of her hare-brained schemes and ploys," the brunette responded dryly, but not without a glimmer of hope in her dark eyes. "I'm tired, Miss Swan; I'm tired, physically and emotionally of my son referring to me as 'evil' whenever I do anything. I made him pancakes for breakfast yesterday and he asked if I was trying to make up for something evil I had done."

"So, you're just done? Done with the Evil thing?"

Regina shook her head, dark hair falling over her shoulders. "No, I never said that. I said that I would not be participating in my mother's hare-brained schemes or ploys anymore, not that I would choose to remain on the sidelines should an actual threat become apparent."

Emma shrugged. "That's too bad, 'cause I was going to ask if you wanted to go to dinner tomorrow night if you were. You and me on the dance floor while some Latin beat plays heavy in the background, a bottle of wine, a late night babysitter for Henry. What do you say, Regina?"

"Well, then, Miss Swan, perhaps we could come to some sort of-"

"Give me back my Belle!"

"What is that?!"

"Prepare yourselves!"

"Incoming!"

"Oh, come on!" Emma exclaimed over the rest of the hollers as she, too, turned to face the dark cloud that had passed over the diner. She had been so close to getting even closer to those tight leather pants the Evil Queen was known for. "Whoever is doing that, stop it now! I'm enjoying breakfast over here!"

"It's the Shadow, Emma," Mary Margaret squeaked from her place by the glass doors leading into the diner, eyes firmly locked on the rolling grey cloud that blanketed the town. "The Shadow!"

The blonde rolled her eyes, only mildly concerned by the presence of the "Shadow." Whatever it was, it could wait until _after_ she was done asking out the Evil Queen on a date for Friday. Was that too much to ask? No, Emma certainly didn't think so. "So, Friday night-"

"It's a Pan, Miss Swan, which means that none of the children in this town are safe, including Henry," Regina interrupted, already reaching for her purse, which was perched against the wall. "The Shadow seeks to steal all of the children from the world and siphon their life's energy to perpetuate his own youthful existence. We need to get to Henry."

She could whine and throw a temper tantrum, but, in the end, it would be as useless as Prince Charming with a revolver. So, she followed Regina blindly as the dark-haired woman headed out of the diner to inspect the now-cackling shadow figure in the middle of Main Street, hearing only a low command from the other woman for Henry to remain inside as Regina crossed through the doorway.

"I've come for the children, so if you would please," the Pan said with a giggle as it bobbed from foot to foot, glee written across its pointed features. "Stand aside, all you fun-stealers."

With a quick glance to Regina's profile, Emma noted that she did not appear pleased to seek the elf-like creature perched atop her vehicle. To be fair, she was pretty sure the insurance company did not cover "Destructive Acts of Pan" on any of their plans, no matter how much Regina shelled out per month.

"You've come for the children, dear? Whatever would you need with the children of Storybrooke, Pan?" Despite her obvious ire at having her car violated by the redheaded boy in green tights, the Evil Queen sounded more pleasant than her harsh scowl revealed.

"Take him out," the blonde whispered. "Threat to Henry, right there! Now is the time to let loose with the fireballs."

"Let him answer the question, dear. Now, Pan, as I was saying, whatever would you need with the children of Storybrooke?"

"Well, lady, I want to-"

"One more word and I shoot him," Emma interrupted with a glare to the diminutive Pan. Provided he didn't fly, she could make the shot or at least scare him a bit like a scared, itty bitty chipmunk until he ran back up whatever godforsaken tree had spat him out to wreak havoc on an unsuspecting public.

Regina turned, grabbed the blonde's hand and tugged her out of sight from the creepy boy-child hovering over her car. "Small conference," she called out to the Pan. Once they had moved a suitable distance away (three feet), she whirled on the younger woman. "Let the poor boy speak, Emma," she ordered. "Clearly he just needs an ear to bend before he-"

"Eats all of the children in Storybrooke," Emma offered. "Which, incidentally, includes our son. So, unless you want Henry to be an appetizer before Creepy out there goes for broke and fries himself a Hansel and Gretel sandwich, I suggest you get to the roasting."

"We need his shadow, Emma, before we can destroy him. Without it, he'll regenerate himself, and the rest of you do-gooders will have one heck of a time trying to banish him from the town. So, if you don't mind, I'd like to keep him talking in the hopes that he will reveal where he hid it; that is, if you can keep from pulling your trigger prematurely."

Disregarding the trigger remark with little more than a shrug of her left shoulder, Emma attacked the only portion of that statement not directed at insulting her. "Do-gooders? What about you, your mother, and Rumple?"

Regina rolled her eyes, fists firmly planted against her sides. "They have their own problems to deal with, and my weekend is already booked."

"Booked?" Who booked the Evil Queen without first informing the Savior? That should be in Team Beta's precious rule book: Article III, section B) thou shalt not invite an intoxicatingly attractive Evil doer without consulting blonde Team Beta members with crushes on said Evil doers first.

"I'm having lunch with Kathryn on Saturday. We dine at Rodrigo's every third Saturday of the month, dear, not that you need to know the finer details of my appointments."

Harrumph. Kathryn. So she could play dead; possums around the world did it all the time but you didn't see anyone awarding them with a superhero status or inviting them to do lunch at Rodrigo's. See if Regina's precious_ Kathryn_ could tell when someone was lying or put forth random bursts of energy to take out an enemy (or a bedroom wall).

That was probably not the point, though; not when Creepy had taken a particular interest into the happenings mere feet away from his resting place. "What do we do, then, if you're so unwilling to make him do his best impression of a fire dance?"

"Pay attention, dear. We're going to have a civilized discussion with the Pan, and then, once we discover the hiding place of his shadow, we will destroy it and banish that creepy boy-man out of town to live out the rest of his existence in some small town where children are a rarity."

"Um, I don't think I like that plan," the Pan interjected, hovering slightly out of reach from the Queen and her companion. He tilted his head to the side in contemplation before he giggled. "Now, about the children-"

"Manners, Pan," the brunette reminded the redheaded child-creature. "We haven't finished discussing our terms with you yet. You see, we can't simply hand over the children to you so you might devour their youth. There are rules here that we must follow."

Emma squirmed under the wide-eyes of the Pan; those curiously red eyes that followed her like that one painting of the Twelve Disciples her fifth foster mother had had hanging in the bathroom. "Stop talking to it like it's a civilized thing and kill it."

The red eyes bulged from their sockets even more as the Pan reared back to fully face the blonde woman. "I don't like that plan," he said plaintively in that same higher-pitched giggle. "But," his voice dropped considerably, "I do like the plan where I eat you, all tough and yucky as you are."

"Emma?" Regina inquired, hand searching blindly at her side for the blonde's.

"Uh-huh?"

"Run!"

**A/N: Pan is modeled after The Thrilling Adventure Hour, segment- Beyond Belief, episode 15- "Second Star to the Wrong", voiced by Tom Lenk. If you haven't heard it, go check out the free podcast. **


	4. Chapter 4

"You told me to fucking run, so I fucking ran. What more do you want from me?" Emma slouched further into her seat, effectively molding herself into the leather cushion of the tricked out Mercedes, frowning at the scowl directed in her direction. Half of her statement was the truth, and the other half, well- Regina had said run and then bolted in the direction of the diner, only doubling back when she caught the frantic fumbling motions and erratic hopping from the blonde ordering her to unlock the vehicle, so-

"What I wanted-" Regina huffed, taking a moment to collect her thoughts and shove back a piece of hair that escaped its hold before she smashed her fists on the steering wheel, knuckles white. Exhaling a deep breath, she said, "What I wanted was for you to run to the diner so I could barricade the door behind you and seal the Pan out and away from the children. Mostly Henry, but the children all the same."

"And then what? What were you going to do, your royal Evilness? Huh; were you going to take on the Pan yourself?" The blonde's eyes widened dramatically, entire body rigid. "You were. You were going to go all Evil Queen on that Pan, weren't you? That's why you wanted me out of the way, so you could take the credit for the poof."

"That's right. I wanted your accident-prone self out of my way so I could take all of the credit and lord it over you and the rest of your do-good clan later, dear. What an asset you must be for Team Beta with that intuitive line of thinking," Regina spat out as she revved the engine, prompting a startled look from the Pan who had taken up residence on the hood of her car. Served the little creepy child-man-creature right for loitering on her property. Literally, on her property. Too bad the sheriff was more useless than a cricket in a therapy session, else she might have filed a report for the scratch marks left by the thing's claw-like hands.

"Anyway," she said in a calmer voice, "that was not the point. I told you to run in the hopes that you would retreat to the diner so our son would have at least one of his mothers with him while the other went to retrieve weapons. Since the only weapons I've ever seen you carry is that revolver on your hip and a cholesterol-filled bear claw, I presumed that you would not be the ideal candidate to ensure Henry's continued existence on the weapons front."

Emma couldn't help but sulk at the comment, perturbed by the continued insults about her ability to parent the young boy. Sure, she had given him up at birth, but that was for his own benefit as she had been incarcerated at the time with no way of providing for him. There had been no way of knowing how screwed up her life would become then. There was no way of knowing that her son would be adopted by the Evil Queen and raised to be a polite, well-mannered child with a penchant for running away to find shiny and new family members whenever he was told "no" by one of the old ones.

Also, bear claws were delicious and deserved to be eaten. In great quantities.

After a good long minute of brooding over the travesty that had become her life (minus, of course, the presence of the kid and his mother), she offered, "You know, you could have told me that when you told me to run. It wouldn't have killed you to say what you actually mean instead of assuming that I'm going to read your mind."

"Clearly you do not possess the power to read my mind, else you would have run the three feet to the diner instead of dashing across the road to my car." Regina paused and cocked her head to the side, observing the blonde with a look one might use on a particularly nasty-looking bug. "What on earth possessed you to run closer to the Pan?"

"Ithoughtwecouldgotoyourlairandpickuparocketlaunch er," Emma explained in one breath, not bothering to consider the fact that her companion probably did not understand the jumbled mess that rolled off her tongue.

"I beg your pardon."

"Rocket launcher. Pan go boom." Emma explained, shortly and effectively. Was there any other explanation needed?

Dark eyebrows quirked. "How very eloquent, dear."

"He threatened to eat me, Regina! You can't tell me that a rocket launcher is overreacting to that!"

Regina threw up her hands in surrender at the flash of accusation that roared in her direction from the, frankly, pissed off blonde woman in the passenger seat. Funnily enough, until that moment, the brunette had failed to notice that Emma had already taken the precaution of buckling herself into the seat; how very safety conscious and awfully presumptuous of her. "I'm well aware of the fact that he threatened to eat you, Miss Swan, despite your toughened state. My only comment was going to be that I'm starting to like this side of you; the angry, out for vengeance side of you. It's a refreshing change from your usual irritating pursuit for truth, justice, and carbohydrates."

"I, um, I like you, too, 'Gina," Emma muttered in return, concealing the sentiment as best she could with her fist closed tightly over her mouth. She had only said the words, "I love you," one time in her life, and then the jackass (read: Spawn of Rumplestiltskin) had dumped her on the word of Pinocchio, but not before he ensured she would take the fall for his crimes. But, right then, even with the Pan staring at them through the windshield like they were the juiciest steaks on the menu (save for the chubby boy who lived in the shoe with the rest of his siblings), she sort of wanted to say it. Just a little bit. (It might have been the desire to want to outdo the Queen though, so she kept her mouth shut.) "So, what should we do now? I mean, we are sort of stuck in the car until he decides to go...wherever Pans go in the middle of the day, and there's a lot of stuff we could do in the front seat of the car. The gear shift on this thing is pretty low and I could slide and, how far do these seats go-"

"We need weapons," Regina interrupted (thankfully for Emma's loose tongue and foot-in-mouth tendencies). "It would also be advantageous of us to find the Pan's shadow before the town is drowned in a blood bath."

Hadn't that been the line she'd been touting? Weapons, at least; not the shadow thing, that was all Regina. Frankly, Emma was more than willing to try to blow the thing up without its shadow and see how that plan went. The blonde nodded reluctantly in agreement to a variation of her own plan. Really, she would have preferred a make out session (on account of their newly discovered feelings of not-quite-animosity and it-might-be-love-or-at-least-an-intense-form-of-lu st), but beggars couldn't be choosers. "You're in the driver's seat, so drive. I'm not going anywhere. See? I'm already buckled in; safety first and all that."

"For once, you aren't the problem, dear," the Queen admitted in a near defeated voice as she shifted the car into drive. "Rather the problem lies in the Pan's presence on the hood of my car. Should he inflict the slightest bit of damage to it, I will file a formal request for restitution with Team Beta's accounting department."

Accounting Department? Yeah, like they were that organized.

"Good luck getting Granny to pay that out," Emma snorted. "You should hear her gripe about the cost of Dopey's hospital stay. I thought she was going to have a heart attack when the first bill came through."

"Had you run to the diner-"

"Hey! If you took two seconds to tell me where to go instead of assuming I would go into the diner, then we wouldn't be sitting in your car right now. Which, by the way, would be great transportation to go and get those weapons you were talking about so we can kick some Pan ass before I take you out on Friday night." There, she'd said it. Well, she'd brought up the potential date, again; and waited for an answer, again. God, she really hoped Regina hadn't been avoiding the question in order to spare her feelings.

That would just be awkward.

Regina quieted down for a long minute, glaring daggers at the Pan perched happily on the other side of the windshield. When he dared to grin, she flicked her wrist in his direction, threatening the tights-wearing little prancer with the full extent of her powers. What she wouldn't give for ten minutes alone with the redheaded brat, then he might learn the true meaning of pain and torture, as well as a good sense of proper etiquette. "Friday night? I'll have to arrange a sitter for Henry."

It wasn't exactly a yes, but then it wasn't a no either. It was a, Henry needs a babysitter, so- "Neal can watch him," the blonde offered with a half-hearted shrug. Surely he was not doing anything on a Friday night, except, maybe, calling his ex-fiancée to beg forgiveness for being an undeniable doofus who'd chased after an old flame when their child came a-calling, which he could do while he watched Henry play video games and eat more candy than could be considered healthy for a growing boy.

"That's only a slightly better suggestion than the two idiots, dear, and I'm loathe to even consider leaving my son with them." The brunette shuddered to emphasize her point. Poor Henry would come home more confused than ever should she leave him with those two yelping about the powers of good. She could only imagine the look of silent agreement when Mary Margaret and her dear Prince Charming started in on how very evil the Evil Queen was and how evil should be destroyed. Or vanquished. Whichever term they were spouting this week. "I'll consider the Useless One if the werewolf has other plans that evening."

Emma decided that the declaration was as close as she was going to get to an outright agreement. There were just some things that she would have to accept about Regina, and the inability to just say what she meant was definitely one of them. Fortunately, she could live with that. "Weapons?"

"You want the rocket launcher, don't you, dear?"

The blonde nodded and cocked her fingers in a makeshift gun, aimed at the Pan. No one threatened to eat her or her kid without some sort of retribution.

"Stop making idle threats," the brunette ordered, fingers clenched over the gear shift as she expertly slid the sleek machine into drive. Her foot hovered over the gas pedal for a short second before it slammed down; the movement causing the Pan to be dislodged from his position on the hood. "If you're going to sit there and threaten him, at least be prepared for the clean up later."

Roadkill. There was no other explanation for the gleam in Regina's eyes and the slight tilt of the steering wheel in the direction of the fallen creature. The Evil Queen was out for blood and the Pan was the (unfortunate?) victim who'd dared to step foot in her sights. "Um, Regina-"

"Quiet, Miss Swan."

"Yeah, but-"

"Quiet."

Emma squirmed in her seat. "You can't kill him without his shadow!" she finally blurted out, bracing for the impact of auto versus pedestrian (of sorts). The sheriff was so going to write a ticket for that offense, no matter that the kids would be safe from becoming an after-school snack. Or, worse, he would attempt to haul Regina off to jail and wind up a snail for the better part of a week until Cora could be reasoned with to release her magic over his slimy body.

Ruby was so not going to be willing to keep Graham in a box for that long on her dresser without considerable compensation.

The car slid neatly onto the main road, narrowly missing the disgruntled creature on the asphalt, and Emma exhaled the breath she had been holding. She remained quite throughout the short ride to the cemetery, still reeling from nearly becoming an accomplice in a vehicular manslaughter case. That really would not be the way to end the week, especially since the D.A. sort of hated her on principle and the only other lawyers in town were the Possum and Rumplestiltskin. It was only when the car was parked and the keys rested in Regina's palm that she dared to speak up. "You weren't going to squish him, were you?"

Regina rolled her eyes, crossing the manicured lawn to the mausoleum with long strides. "It wouldn't have done much in the long run, dear. Without the shadow, the Pan would have regenerated, for lack of a better word. As amusing as it would have been, I don't believe it would have been worth it once Michael finished double charging me for the repairs."

So very true. The one time Emma had brought the Bug in for repairs (after listening to the laughter from Boy Wonder about the duct tape holding the tape player in place), the town's mechanic, Michael, had damn near drained her bank account for one itty bitty screw that would hold the radio in place. Looking back, she had been better off with the duct tape.

Who knew what he charged for customized missilry instillation?

"Seriously? You just leave this place unlocked for any unsuspecting...me to find?" Emma asked as she crossed the threshold into the final resting place of Henry Mills Sr. Not that she would have ever thought of breaking into a mausoleum until Henry (the little one) mentioned it earlier. And, damn, she finally realized she was still working off of less than three hours of sleep.

"You wouldn't have known about it had my son not run to you this morning to tell you about my nefarious plans for world domination," Regina retorted easily, striding past the casket in the middle of the room without a second glance.

"Is that your-?"

"Father? Yes."

Emma nodded and skirted by, head tucked to her chin in reverence for the man long since past. Like everyone else in town, she, too, had heard the rumors- the ones that told about how Regina had yanked the man's still-beating heart from his chest- but unlike the rest of the town, she just hoped that the logistics of that one were near impossible. "How, um, did he-"

"Heart attack," came the swift response as the brunette forced her weight against the casket, forcefully shoving it to the side to reveal a hidden staircase. "After you, dear," she added with an exaggerated gesture to the stairs.

The blonde stepped forward on light feet, a bit disconcerted about being sent first down the potentially danger-laden stone steps. Perhaps this was the way the Evil Queen and her mother finally took out Team Beta's proclaimed savior (after months of seduction on the Evil Queen's behalf to ensure the blonde's absolute obedience to the order). Because, damn, there hadn't been much of a fight by the time she reached the bottom of the stairs in one piece.

"Keep your hands off of anything that looks like it could explode and you'll be fine."

That was like telling a kid to keep their grubby paws out of the cookie jar before dinner. She was going to touch something; Emma knew it, Regina knew it, even the laser beam knew it. If only she could figure out where, exactly, the on switch was on the complicated piece of weaponry. Emma blinked wide eyes at the thing, struggling to figure out which end would reduce her to ashes and which end would result in an awesome fireworks display.

"You," Regina said, " don't get to play with that." She swatted away the over eager hands from her precious toy without another word, tucking it back under its cover with a loving pat to the top when she was done. "You can, however, collect whatever you want from the far wall."

Emma spun on her feet, nearly falling over, in her eagerness to get her hands on something that would do damage, preferably to the Pan but...whatever, that was negotiable, as long as she got to fire something. Her face fell into a deep frown at the sheer amount of...junk on the far wall. What was she supposed to do with the equivalent of a Koosh ball? Throw it at the Pan in hopes it wouldn't chase after her and declare her 'It' in a game of tag?

"It explodes, dear, when it makes contact with the target. It's not the most reliable, but the children should enjoy the light show it produces."

Exploded? She wanted three. Quickly, she stuffed as many things into the trunk of Regina's car as possible, playing the equivalent of Tetris in between the more fun looking toys Regina had added to the collection. Then, she turned to face the most glorious invention of all-

The rocket launcher.

Long and black, and beautiful, and sleek, and- she needed to touch it.

Before she had the chance, her companion lifted it deftly from the hooks that held it like a trophy at the head of the room and dropped it unceremoniously into the back of the car. No pomp. No circumstance. Just _plunk._

"Regina-"

The brunette turned from her half-seated position in the driver's seat. "Oh, for Pete's sake, it's not loaded. If it were, well, we wouldn't be having this conversation right now."

"No, I-" _You freaking dropped a freaking rocket launcher into the back of the car like it was nothing! _There had been no ceremony in the delivery of the one piece of weaponry Emma really wanted to try out; nothing, nada, zilch. _Plunk! _The blonde dropped herself into the front seat, buckling up dutifully. "Just drive back to the diner. Henry's probably wondering where we are."

"That's doubtful, Ms. Swan," Regina noted as she steered the Mercedes up the ramp that would lead them back to the world of the living. "He's currently at the counter bar in Granny's, most likely being filled to the brim with sugary treats courtesy of the Wolf."

Oh, yeah, GPS tracker.

It was a quiet ride, relatively short, too, to the Team Beta headquarters (Granny's diner), in which Emma spent in deep contemplation over the path her life had taken. True, she was much closer to being able to save her son from the creepy clutches of Ronald McPan, but they still had to find his shadow. And who knew where he had hidden that thing. Emma was so lost in concentration, she failed to notice Regina's presence or the open door held in her fingers.

"Are you coming, dear?"

Like a frantic five year old on the first day of school, Emma shot up from her seat, thankfully after she managed to unbuckle herself from the travesty known as a seat belt, and stumbled her way out of the car, only bumping into Regina twice as she did so.

"You're far too tense," the brunette admonished, dropping her hands onto the blonde's shoulders.

If she were a computer, there would have been a ticker tape running along her front screen proclaiming, "Brain overload. Abort! Abort!" But there wasn't, so she was left to stand under the very welcome weight of Regina's hand rubbing delicious circles over skinned bared from her (now) most favorite tank top. "Uh huh." Great. Monosyllabic responses. That was the way to woo a lady.

"Is this about Friday?"

Apparently the question was rhetorical and therefore, did not require her braincells to be on any sort of functional level, Emma decided when lips she had been lusting over came within millimeters of her own, hot breath breaking through the flimsy barrier between them. Lips which just begged to be kissed and suckled and- oh, God, yeah they were right there. If she just fell forward a bit, playing on her innate clumsiness, then-

"Pick me up at seven in anything other than that piece of scrap metal you insist on calling a car," Regina offered, then she was gone. Gone to strut the short distance between the back door of Granny's and the rear parking lot meant for employees (aka Ruby) like a model on the catwalk in her impractical heels and designer suit that hugged all of her curves in the right places.

Suddenly, Emma found herself alone in the middle of the deserted parking lot with nought but a locked car full of weapons (without the key to access said weapons) and an alarming resemblance to a terrified guppy.


	5. Chapter 5

At twelve o'clock in the afternoon, Emma Swan discovered that she had, inadvertently, committed a cardinal sin derived from every high school movie she could think of- she'd been stood up in the middle of an empty parking lot by (arguably) the hottest woman in town. Her teenage self cringed, slapped her forehead with a heavy hand, and headed back to whichever home she was living in at the time to scrounge for ice cream and wallow in self-loathing and despair, leaving adult-Emma behind, because that should have never, ever happened. And certainly not when she had been so close to making something happen (promises of the date on Friday excluded).

A real something- a kiss, more-than-friendly hug, second base in the front seat of Regina's Mercedes like two teens in a middle school parking lot with a bottle of bottom shelf discount liquor and enough dreams to propel their over-inflated egos to the moon and back. It could have happened, but it didn't because she was too slow or Regina was too fast...or, hell, it didn't even matter because she was still standing in the middle of the parking lot doing her best impression of a terrified sardine who just went fin to fin against a Great White Shark and lived to tell the tale.

Miraculously. Like when Nemo had been flushed down the toilet into the unforgiving unknown, she, too had lived to see the big, wide, wet, and blue ocean. Only it was more like Granny's back parking lot instead of the ocean, and she hadn't just completed some life-changing adventure, so, really, she had nothing in common with a clownfish.

Sometimes, she really wanted to steal Mary Margaret's bow and arrow and shoot herself in the foot for being so...whatever the heck she was.

Instead of finalizing the logistics of a plan involving self-loathing (aka, more ice cream than Dr. Whale would dignify as healthy), Emma straightened her spine and marched herself through the back door of the diner, well prepared to make amends with her teenage self by planting a good one on a certain brunette. Nice, wet, and thoroughly embarrassing for their son should he be witness to the event (or hear about it later from the town's resident gossip queens). She continued her march down the short hall, past the industrial-sized freezers, and made it to the open doorway that would lead into the main part of the diner before she realized the one fatal flaw in her plan-

The town of Storybrooke, Maine was out to screw with her impending love life.

All of its lovely inhabitants, superhero or otherwise, congregated in the small diner had, apparently, decided to take sides in the Rumple/Team Beta/Cora/It's-high-school-all-over-again fight. Literally. Took sides.

The diner had become Ground Zero, a battleground of sorts with poor Henry stuck underneath one of the tables near the middle like an unfortunately placed referee. Poor kid looked like a terrified wildebeest in the middle of two squabbling packs of lions; that is, if the lion packs were headed by some really Type-A personalities with weapons and superpowers and an intense hatred of one another for some inexplicable reason that had never been explained to a certain blonde onlooker.

Emma peeked over Regina's shoulder, making a mental note to ask the woman to either switch to practical flats or shorter heels. If she snuffled a bit of dark hair while she was there, well, all of the potential witnesses were too busy hollering at each other and making empty threats to really take notice of what she was doing in the doorway with the notorious Evil Queen, who, by the way, smelled of homemade apple pie; which only served to make Emma's stomach growl and turn in an unfortunate manner.

"Move your hand, Ms. Swan," came Regina's predictable reply when the blonde's left hand happened to stray a bit south (purely for balance, as she was perched rather precariously over the brunette's shoulder to get the best look at the happenings in the main part of the diner- again, Regina's fault with those ridiculous shoes.) It wasn't her fault that she had been born a complete klutz and needed more assistance with stability than most people, and Regina's hip just happened to be there, so-

"Are we going in? I mean, we should probably stop...whatever they're doing," Emma trailed on the last bit, carefully observing what the heck her friends and enemies were doing. As she had said in the meeting earlier, if Regina wasn't there to fight with, then it really wasn't worth it. There were only so many times she could take Cora waving her hands, making her disappear and reappear in the middle of the forest during a fight, before it became predictable and draining.

She had not signed up for that shit.

As a certified member of Team Beta, she expected better. And if better meant that she were forced to spend the day, night, whatever in the back of Granny's diner with only Regina and a plateful of previously frozen french fries, then so be it.

She could adapt to her surroundings like a forest ranger or Yogi Bear (with a picnic basket full of yummy goodies).

"We should ascertain that they haven't been foolish enough to break the barrier keeping the Pan out," Regina replied flatly, almost resigned to her fate as she fidgeted for the briefest of seconds. Her hands clenched at her sides, the only outward sign of her discomfort as she stepped forward, acutely aware of the presence lurking at (and on) her shoulder.

"Yeah, we should do that," Emma agreed, though with less conviction. Seriously? The barrier could be broken if, say, Ruby wanted a smoke break or if Leroy had to be chucked out on his rear for consuming immense quantities of liquor that made him believe he was the equivalent of Don Juan with the local nuns. One nun in particular, if she were being specific about the matter.

They broke past the open doorway, and Emma found that she regretted it immediately. Sure, there might not have been cooked food in the kitchen, but Regina was good for that. It was a diner; they had red pepper flakes and other stuff that went into lasagna, meaning that Emma would have been set for a lifetime or two. Too bad they had to walk into the war zone where she might be hit by a flying something or other before she could convince Regina to give up all things evil and take up the position as her personal chef.

"Belle! Give her back! I know you have her hidden away somewhere. Give her back or I'll set fire to the entire town."

"For the-"

Yeah, she didn't need to be listening to this nonsense again when there were other, more important things she could be doing. Like rescuing Henry from his little cubby-hole position, going to back to Regina's, and relaxing while she updated her Facebook status and checked her Twitter feed. How many more times did she had to listen to Mary Margaret's insistence that they were good, Regina and co. were evil, and none of that was going to change unless aforementioned Regina and co. saw the error of their ways and sought forgiveness like a bunch of fallen Catholics.

Or Rumple's one note demands to have his girlfriend dragged out of her rented room at Granny's and presented before him.

"Enough!"

Emma froze. Years of training in the foster system, whether in group homes or placed with a family, she knew that nothing good ever happened when someone raised their voice to that particular level. Nothing, ever. There were no cakes, no parties, no fancy cardboard hats. No, a whole lot of yelling equaled more yelling and screaming and, altogether, badness, usually aimed at one misfortunate individual who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time with the wrong presumed stolen thing in their hands. Mentally, she scanned through her movements leading up to the point of holler, finding nothing that would lead her to be in trouble.

Once her innocence was established, she visibly relaxed and followed the screamer into the middle of the room. Better to be by the side of the individual stopping the ruckus than in the fray where more screaming might be aimed in her direction. Because, dammit, she was innocent this time. And-

Child rescue.

She felt like Superman. Except she wasn't 'cause he was kind of a jerk for not even reading her application into his syndicate. So what if she couldn't fly or have super strength or the ability to walk around in spandex without feeling self-conscious about the lacking amount of crunches she managed in between her double cheeseburgers.

The yelling made sense, then, if Regina had raised her voice to make a path through the room and ensure Henry's continued existence. Emma knew there had to be a reason; she had just hoped it would be for more selfish reasons, like carbohydrates or rocket launchers. But the kid was good, too. More important, even.

She stood back and watched the brunette snatch their son by the scruff of his neck and tuck him under the protection of her arm before she turned back to the forces facing off. "Oh, mother, please tell me you haven't been chasing after Rumple this entire time."

"Shouldn't I be asking you about your intentions with the Savior, darling?" Cora retorted in a fashion that made her look like a young child. Pouting as she was, she was the indignant sort, preferring to fling barbs as quickly as they pierced her own hide. Even at the expense of her own child.

Emma had always believed Cora Mills to be the heartless sort, and as she stood waiting for the next set of directions (leaving, her go-to option, obviously wasn't the solution with the barrier and all) she couldn't help but wonder about the exact nature of the Queen of Hearts' love for her daughter. Sure, she knew from experience that there were parents who pushed their children to success no matter the consequences, but to possibly humiliate their child in front of a group of their enemies?

Regina rolled her eyes in response, and Emma reevaluated her initial thoughts about the humiliation part of her musings. "If you are asking my intentions, mother, they're quite simple. I plan on joining Ms. Swan for dinner on Friday night assuming we can rid ourselves of the Pan by then. And, think of it, I've never made a fool of myself by chasing after the person I'm infatuated by."

That stung. Emma ducked her head to her chin for a brief moment, catching the eye of her fidgeting son as she did so. Tucked under Regina's arm like a parcel, he had very little wiggle room to maneuver away from the one he deemed 'evil'.

Cora sniffed the air in a delicate fashion that only seemed to further amuse her daughter. "I raised you to be obedient and respectful, Regina," she threatened in a low, rough voice, her fingers dancing in anticipation at her sides.

"And I've let you live in my home without paying a dime since Daddy died," Regina retorted easily, releasing Henry with a small shove towards his blonde mother. "To say that your typical routine isn't going to work today would be an understatement, but if you insist-"

Fireball! Fireball! That was one big ole fireball!

Emma squirmed, unsure of whether running was a feasible option or if she should just apply the standby of Stop! Drop! and Scurry Out of Harm's Way! She liked her buns un-toasted, thank you very much.

"But I told my son that I was trying to change for the better, so this is going to have to wait," Regina continued, fireball disappearing from her palm with a small whoosh of smoke that fluttered harmlessly through the air. "If you're quite done, mother, I'd like to inform everyone of the newest developments with the Pan. As Ms. Swan and I have already had one run-in in with the creature, I would like to inform all of you that-"

"Why should we believe a word you say?" Charming, of the Princely sort, asked with a raised fist, as if he would really land a blow on a woman who could disappear and reappear with his neck held in her grasp. "How do we know that this isn't just an elaborate plan to betray us and then kill us in our sleep?"

For a few seconds, Emma was reminded why Regina's moniker was the Evil Queen. The glint in her eyes, directed, thankfully, at Prince Charming at the rest of the accusing eyes from Team Beta was nothing short of terrifying. "The Pan is really out there," she interjected, stepping forward and placing herself in the middle of the fray (as stupid a plan as that was). "He threatened the children of Storybrooke. And," a deep breath, "he threatened to eat me, too, if I got in his way."

Not strictly true, but none of them were there and Regina didn't seem too keen on calling her out on her obvious Pan-baiting.

"See? The Savior believes I have no intentions to kill you in your sleep, which," Regina paused and took the time to roll her eyes at the implication that she would do something so...banal. It was boring, unimaginative, and she had not earned the title of the Evil Queen by being such. "Is ridiculous. If I wanted to kill you, Charming, or you, Snow, I would do it in such a way that I could watch the life leave your body, not while you were having pleasant dreams of bunny rabbits and rainbows."

"Guys, please, just listen to Regina," Emma offered. "The Pan is a threat to every single kid in Storybrooke and if he manages to eat one before we find his shadow-"

"He'll be nearly indestructible, dearie," Rumple finished for her, broken, for the moment, from his quest to regain the love of his beloved. "I could offer my assistance...for a price, of course."

"I swear, if you say Belle I will kill you. Dagger or no dagger, I will find a way to rip your head from the rest of your body and drop it down your precious well." The Savior clenched her fists and swung in the direction of Rumplestiltskin, ire rolling through her veins freely, and then she winced at the sight of the rest of her team's expressions. And her son. Henry stared at his blonde mother with the same sort of accusation that laced his interactions with Regina and, well, it stung. Really, really stung. "Completely figurative, though. I wouldn't actually, you know."

"As cute as this is, there is still the issue of finding the Pan's shadow so he may be destroyed." The Evil Queen stepped forward with all the confidence in the world captured in her step as she addressed those around her like she would to lowly peasants. "Ms. Swan and I-"

"Charming and I should go," Mary Margaret broke in, loudly. "We can find the Pan's shadow and then bring it back here."

"Enlighten me, dear, how do you propose to catch the Pan's shadow once you locate it?"

The pixie-haired brunette frowned and thought about the question for a minute, looking altogether too puzzled by the question to have a passable answer in the works.

Regina nodded slightly, the barest tilt of her head in Mary Margaret's direction. "That's what I thought. You haven't had the distinct displeasure of interacting with a Pan. They're tricky creatures, Ms. Blanchard, and that is why you won't be involved in the retrieval process. Rather, I believe you might be quite handy in surveillance of the diner, should we choose to use it as a home base of sorts. That, of course, assumes that the children will either be brought here or the parents take exclusive responsibility for them and remain in their homes." She eyed the blonde and her son. "As I was saying before I was interrupted, Ms. Swan and I will take point in finding the Pan's shadow while Henry remains in the wolf's care."

"I should go, too," Neal said with conviction as he rose from his seat. "I am one of Henry's parents, after all, and if he's in danger then...well, I should go, too."

"That's fine with me, dear." The Queen shrugged her shoulders and smiled (read: bared her teeth like a hungry wolf) at Neal. "At least now we'll have bait to dangle in front of the Pan should he choose to confront us, and provided you don't give him indigestion, you might be a good bargaining chip should the need arise for one."


End file.
